


I'll Shout It to the Blue Summer Sky

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fingering, First Time, Growth and Healing, PWP, The mirror is involved, but not the way you think, emotional pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Beau's thought about it before, what it might mean to be someone's honest to gods girlfriend. She wants to get it right for Yasha, but there's something she's never quite managed to unravel and with Yasha's help, now might be the right time to confront it.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 14
Kudos: 238





	I'll Shout It to the Blue Summer Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This one's pretty personal to me.

"Will you tell me what's bothering you?" Yasha's voice is low in her ear, the warmth of her arms wrapped around Beau's bare chest a gentle reassurance.

She doesn't want to say it, to cough up this old, dark knot into the light of day - but it won't go away until she does. She'll keep having to stop before Yasha touches her properly, keep having to deal with its fallout until she confronts it. Yasha's worth it, and that's why Beau knows it's time.

She takes a deep breath, lightly grasps Yasha's arm when it tightens to ground her, and offers the thought that's been gnawing at her for years, since long before the possibility of now. "I…I think I'm scared of what it means to be someone's girlfriend."

She's braced for confusion, maybe even soft hurt - for Yasha to leap to the reasonable conclusion that Beau might be backing out. The option has been there the whole time, the no pressure, take it as it comes thing.

And Beau's grateful, but she's not backing out at all. The good thing is she can trust that Yasha knows it. Yasha knows her, knows the difference between a defense going up and trouble explaining herself.

It does probably help that they're naked.

"I wondered," Yasha says, and sure enough she sounds like she always does when Beau manages to scrape a shadow off her internal walls and hold it up to her. "Your face when Veth said the word…it did a thing."

Beau winces internally. "Yeah. I hoped I'd hidden it in time, I didn't want you to think I didn't like it." She looks up at Yasha and squeezes her arm gently. "I do like it."

"But it means something to you that scares you."

Beau sighs heavily. "Yeah. And I don't know exactly what it is."

It should be awkward; they're sitting upright against the headboard of Beau's bed, traces of the dark flush Yasha had coaxed to Beau's skin less than five minutes ago still lingering. Beau should be feeling like she's ruined something, like this is a hard conversation to have naked or no and _gods_ , she wants to do this with Yasha so much, but not recklessly. Not until she's poked apart this fear.

"There's just…I've never really belonged to anyone before," she continues. It's not awkward. Just hard.

To her surprise, Yasha chuckles just slightly. "Sorry," she offers, and presses her cheek briefly against Beau's temple. "Just the thought of anyone thinking they own you. It's…"

"Terrifying," Beau says softly.

Yasha's not smiling now, but her skin pressed to Beau's remains a warm and steady comfort. "I would never ask you to give up any part of yourself for me."

Beau's heart clenches, breath coming shallower now. "I know. But that's not the point," she says. "You shouldn't have to ask. We're…girlfriends. Partners." She can feel herself speeding up, but now that the words are coming there's no end to them. "I'm a _we_ now, and it's exciting and - and kind of comforting, but it comes with a responsibility that I -"

"Beau. Stop."

Her voice is kind but firm, and Beau stills immediately, heart in her throat. She's clutching Yasha's arm now, she realizes, and her vision is hot and blurry.

Yasha maneuvers Beau gently so that she's leaning sideways and looking up into her face. "You are not responsible for me," Yasha says. "That is not a...an expectation I have - or want. And I know you don't either, from me or anyone."

These things are difficult for them to name, in different ways for different reasons. The effort from Yasha to meet her where she is means more than Beau can say, but she feels a little guilty, too. If she were better at figuring out her own shit...she takes a deep breath, reminds herself that Yasha wants to help, that she also wants this resolved.

"I don't expect it from you," she begins. "I don't have to. You do it naturally. For me it's...harder, to consider what it means to - I don't know. Plan for more than just me?" Gods this is hard to spell out without sounding like an asshole. "But it's what people do when they're together." Yasha's fingers tighten on the last word, a bolster for Beau to keep going. "I didn't do the dating thing, yeah, but I grew up seeing it. Even my parents, you know, whatever their weird, formalized definition of love was - they made decisions with the other person in mind because that's what you _do_."

Yasha looks a little faraway when Beau looks up again, mouth turned down slightly as she stares over Beau's head. Fuck. Did she just blow it? Which part?

"I'm curious," Yasha muses, and if she notices that her voice restarts Beau's heart she doesn't let on. "Why would you choose now to start doing what's expected of you?"

Beau can see the point she's making, and it's a good one, but. "Because it's you." Yasha looks to her, all soft, startled confusion. "I told you. I want to do this with you the right way. I…I want to be whatever it is you need." Beau traces the line of Yasha's collarbone with her eyes and says, quieter now, "I'm just scared about feeling like I have to, even though I already want to. I don't wanna give you this -" she gestures to her bare body "- casually. I want that commitment from me, to be that for you."

Yasha seems to be choosing her words carefully, but her thumb is a comfort where it swipes absentmindedly back and forth on Beau's bicep. "You're thinking like you're still alone."

It's such an odd thing to hear after literally reminding herself that she's _not_ alone, and Beau has trouble processing it for a second. "What do you mean?"

"I mean where this goes, where we go, is not up to just you." Yasha's voice stays gentle. "And you've always asked what I want, Beau. Long before I knew I had a say. And you never assumed." She smiles at Beau. "I don't see you stopping that."

Beau swallows hard. She's right, this whole thing's been built on mutual communication. Until recently the majority of it had been wordless, but it's always been there. She can't assume she'll have to read Yasha's mind. But something had snagged her a few sentences back, so she checks in. "Will you tell me what you're thinking now?" 

"Which part?"

Beau reaches up and touches her cheek. "Your face did something, earlier. When I said it's just what people do. You looked…lost?"

And she does again now, but her eyes stay focused on Beau as she says, "I don't want the right way to be what anyone else says it is but us. Never again."

The gravity of her words hovers out of Beau's reach for just a moment, and then it crashes through her thoughts like a boulder.

"Yeah," she says, nodding quickly. "Gods, I. Yeah."

"Good," says Yasha, and before Beau can start babbling or thinking too hard about whether she should apologize, she leans down and captures Beau's mouth in a bruising kiss. It's the hardest she's ever kissed Beau in the two weeks or so since they kicked this thing off for real, and there's a part of Beau that thinks _finally, there you are_.

And that probably means they're heading in the right direction, whatever that means for them, so she slides her fingers down from Yasha's cheek to her throat, and then lower to lift one of Yasha's hands to stroke lightly over her brown nipple - a question.

Yasha breaks the kiss after one more lingering moment of her tongue resting between Beau's teeth and regards Beau's breast under her hand, breathing slightly shaky. "I want to keep going," Beau says, because Yasha's right and it's not just true for her - they're not meant to try and read other's minds. At least not yet.

Yasha kisses her again and passes her hand down over Beau's ribs as she had been before, until Beau's nerves had caught up with her. This time there's no jolt of anxiety when Yasha's fingers take their time brushing over muscle and scar tissue, just a kind of emotional sore spot that retreats easily to allow Beau to arch into the touch and not away.

Beau spreads her legs and breaks the kiss to watch Yasha's hand move along the inside of her thigh and come right up against the thatch of dark hair there. The mirror is closed for now, for this first time, and Beau is grateful because if she could see her own face as Yasha's fingers finally press against her opening, she's pretty sure she'd either come immediately or start crying.

But instead she closes her eyes and pushes her hips into Yasha's hand as she smiles above her and presses a hot kiss to the inside of Beau's shoulder. "Patience," she murmurs into her skin. "You're not quite ready yet."

She's right and it's a little infuriating, but the huff Beau makes in response turns into a full gasp as Yasha's other hand reaches for a nipple and rolls it. She hears Yasha's breath catch, and her voice when it comes is husky with awe and delight. "Oh, you like that a lot." She rolls it again and this time she tugs. A low, short moan falls from Beau's lips before she can check it and she feels her face flush immediately as her eyes screw shut.

Yasha doesn't let up and presses another, harder kiss to the base of Beau's neck. "I want to hear you," she says. "I want to know everything you like."

Beau opens her eyes and shivers at the expression on Yasha's face as she sets to work finding out what makes her tick, just as surely as she's gotten inside of Beau's thoughts. "I usually - guh - noises feel ridiculous," she manages, and she chokes the next sound back when Yasha pinches again and tugs as her other hand pets her thigh and squeezes by turns.

"There is nothing ridiculous about making noise for me, Beau," and the "for me" makes soup of her thoughts. For Yasha. Making noise _for Yasha_.

The idea that wrecking her is a gift to Yasha makes heat ripple from the inside out, and Beau lets the next noise scrape from her throat with effort as Yasha squeezes her hip. "Good girl," Yasha whispers, and Beau's thighs clench reflexively as her breath halts entirely.

She's heard those words once or twice from the odd evening companion who didn't know better, but hearing them from Yasha's mouth, feeling her breath under her ear, just knowing it's _Yasha_ has Beau whimpering a little as strong hands pull her thighs apart again with a gentle "none of that, stay open for me." Beau squeezes Yasha's knees and pushes back up against her, and Yasha wastes no time kissing along her bared throat with flashes of teeth that send little electric shocks through Beau with each one.

"Fuck," she groans, and this time when Yasha touches her cunt she knows she's wet even before Yasha makes a quiet noise of satisfaction.

Yasha drags her slick finger slowly up and down Beau's slit and kneads the whole of Beau's small breast in her palm. It's almost comforting now, casual touching that makes Beau think she could probably meditate like this - just feeling Yasha stroke her and squeeze gently.

The room is silent but for their quiet breathing and the occasional shifting of sheets under a leg, and they pass several minutes just this way.

"Do you want to come like this?" Yasha's voice breaks the silence, and the question alone has Beau's cunt clenching on nothing. The slow heat that had built before they stopped the first time has come back now, and it's twice as fast and twice as hot.

She could absolutely come like this and be happy, but she says, "I want to see you." They've waited so long for this to feel like a natural progression, and now that they're here it doesn't seem like enough to come staring at her own ceiling again.

Yasha kisses her temple and moves her hands to grab Beau and set her to the side as she wiggles out from behind and says "lie on your back for me."

That "for me" again, and Beau scrambles atop the sheets to get into position without a second thought. Yasha crawls down the bed and over her legs to sit between them, and the soft way she's looking at Beau like this is rapidly undoing her. Yasha runs her hands atop Beau's thighs with a purpose, letting Beau see her getting lost in her body and her gentle, reverent fingers as they trace old scars and taut muscle with equal awe.

Beau can't believe they're really here together, that she's spread open and wanting and that Yasha wants her this way - wants _her_ , full stop. The realization brings with it a flash of that familiar fear, that Beau has skipped a bunch of steps and is jumping in over her head too soon, but the unhurried way Yasha moves and the feel of her all around as she leans up over Beau's body to kiss her jaw is a grounding reminder that nothing about this is anything more or less than them, here, now.

And not just now, but tomorrow too. Beau remembers how it felt after the chantry, that thrill of happiness to have Yasha back mingled with the jagged lightning strike of anxiety that she would leave again, or that she would never forgive herself and they'd lose her in another way.

The security that washed over her at hearing Yasha say she would stay was nothing compared to the wave of it wracking her now as she reaches to take Yasha's face in her hands and kiss her.

It's right, that Beau is open for Yasha everywhere she can be, inside and out, and when she whimpers into Yasha's mouth it's to feel her press immediately harder against Beau with a sharp intake of breath.

She thinks for a moment that Yasha will speed up, but her tongue is soft on Beau's and her fingers wander as slowly as before to scratch lightly at her abs. She lingers here, just soaking up the feel of Beau's skin before sliding down between her legs again to rub lazy, slick circles on her clit.

Beau has never been exactly difficult to get going, but her mind just keeps looping on itself with _Yasha, Yasha, Yasha,_ and it's a little ridiculous how close she is so soon.

Her hips twitch and her moan is swallowed in Yasha's kiss, and she pulls back with an effort of will to gasp, "I need you now."

Yasha doesn't seem to find anything about it ridiculous, just releases the pressure on Beau's cunt and asks, "Do you want my fingers or my mouth?" 

"Fuck," Beau groans. "I want you - fingers. Inside, don't stop." She reaches for Yasha's face and pulls her back down to kiss her again as Yasha shifts her weight for support and slips two big fingers inside of Beau with no preamble and presses her thumb to her clit.

Beau writhes, trapped in the best way as Yasha breaks the kiss to let her gasp and moan freely. She peppers kisses along Beau's jaw and down her throat, and she's saying words Beau can't process as she fists the sheets and arches up.

Her world narrows to the curtain above, Yasha's thrusts and hot trail of kisses, and the orgasm rapidly unspooling through her. She thinks she's probably moaning, and when the desperate image flashes through her mind of Yasha getting off to those sounds, it's more than enough to tear her apart - and this time there's no mistaking the cry that wrenches from her as she falls.

When she's fully aware of herself again, it's to find Yasha pressing butterfly-soft, heatless kisses to various scars across Beau's chest and arms. Beau lies still and lets her, catching her breath and staring up at the curtain covering the mirror. Now, she thinks, now she wants to see. She can't take seeing herself cracked open wide for Yasha yet, but she thinks she might die if she can't see what she looks like while someone takes care of her. She's never been able to picture it, and now she can watch it happening.

Her arm feels a little rubbery, but she manages to pull it from under Yasha and gropes for the pull to open the mirror. It's just out of reach, and she hears Yasha huff in quiet amusement before she leans up and past her to pull it easily open. She kisses Beau's forehead and twines their fingers before moving out of view, the reminder clear: Beau doesn't have to do everything herself.

She's too undone to dwell on it, and there's a new feeling welling up in her as she looks up at the view of Yasha's back rippling gently as she kisses her way down Beau's body. It's so much, even just this - seeing Yasha and feeling her all around. And to look at herself like this…

"What do you see?" Yasha murmurs, as though she has read Beau's mind. She drops a kiss into the shadow of a hipbone.

Beau cocks her head and looks carefully. There's an easy dismissal drifting to the front of her thoughts, and she notes its existence and quietly pushes it away. Her reflection reaches down with one hand to thread through Yasha's hair and stroke softly, and mirror Yasha's head leans in to kiss the inside of her arm. "I see an angel," Beau says softly. "And she's touching me like…like I'm something precious."

"You are blinding," Yasha whispers. Beau can't look away from those calloused and soft fingers as they touch the base of her throat and drift down the length of her scar to pause where ropy white tissue becomes smooth and dark again. Beau looks from the mirror to Yasha below to find her watching with rapt attention that makes Beau's face heat in a way she doesn't hate.

"What is it?" She strokes her thumb over the piercings in Yasha's ear and tucks some of her hair behind.

Yasha smiles somewhat hesitantly. "Are you…happy?"

It isn't as random a question as it might have been under other circumstances; there's an undercurrent of intent under most of the things Yasha does for her. But it still takes Beau a second to push through the surprise at hearing it spoken aloud, and she takes another to give it the thought it deserves.

There's a place inside of Beau that she searches, on the rare occasion she asks herself the same. It's a place out of time, one that exists frozen around the age of ten. She can remember feeling happy then, unaware of the powers at play that would start to tear that illusion down slowly until she became unrecognizable to herself. When she looks for happiness, she checks there first.

So when she finds herself thinking instead of climbing trees with Veth and leaping from waterfalls and the feel of Caleb's hand on her shoulder - when she thinks of the witch's hut, of all things, of her family standing around her and watching her break apart and asking her to stay - she looks at those mismatched eyes and reaches for the strand of this moment, too, pulls it into the same space and says, "Yeah. I really think I am." Yasha's smile relaxes and grows, and Beau tugs her up gently next to her to ask, "are you?"

"Yes. Even more to know we're sharing it." Yasha doesn't have to think about it, which means she already has. Beau wonders idly for how long. 

Maybe this all has something to do with expectations too, Beau thinks as Yasha's arms pull her close. Maybe not just what relationships look like, but happiness too. For all that she operates on her own terms, maybe there are places inside of her where the expectations she looks to meet aren't actually...hers. Is there more she's overlooked like this? It's worth looking into, and that itself is a new feeling.

But for now, Beau listens to the slow thud of Yasha's heart under her ear and tangles their legs together to just be here. For now, it's just the two of them happy and together and ready to learn more about what exactly that means - for them and nobody else.


End file.
